Whistle While I Breathe

I felt like a leper the last week at the community college. My old nursing “friends,” fearing guilt by association, steered clear of me at school but would occasionally call me at home. “Hey, we heard that the next nursing classes are going to get the nursing skills lab you wanted. How ‘bout that!” A lot of good it did me. I also was denied the ability to drop my nursing classes and was given an F in both them. Nothing like kicking a girl when she’s down.

I didn’t attend my graduation, but got everything done in the house that I would need both hands to do because my left hand surgery date was close by. On the day of surgery, my husband took me on the 1-1/2 hour drive to my doctor’s surgical center. I felt reassured that I was in good hands. Every orthopedic surgeon at this facility had their own specialty. My doctor specialized in hands, another specialized in feet and ankles, another in knees, another in shoulders, and so on.

I remembered to ask the anesthesiologist to give me the extra dose of Solu-Cortef so I wouldn’t experience any unpleasant crashes. The surgery went well and I was home that day with my immobilized hand and wrist. I could start hand therapy in three weeks.

About that time I started my online studies at the university taking 18 hours; something I thought attainable since I wasn’t working, wouldn’t have to commute or listen to boring lectures, wouldn’t have opportunities for coffee with classmates, and could do in my pajamas. I figured at this rate I could graduate in 13 months, then go on to an accelerated nursing program. It went well that summer, so I took another 18 credits for the fall class. Then something strange started to happen. A whistling noise was coming out of me. I swore it happened every time I breathed. It got louder every day. The whistling was coming from my nose!

This was one of the most ridiculous things I could imagine happening –and embarrassing. I’d be standing in a grocery line – and whistling. I’d be talking on the phone – and whistling. I’d be lying in bed, and whistling. It would even wake me up. I would have dreams of the wind howling and I would wake up to find out IT WAS ME! I’d be doing ANYTHING, and whistling. It wouldn’t stop unless I quit breathing, or kept my mouth open. I made an appointment with the nice ear, nose and throat doc who had rescued me once before (see 1/20/10, “Dr. Nasty Leaves a Souvenir”). What else did Dr. Nasty leave with me?
Cheers!
TPP